


A Night Of Poetry

by LisaB1991



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Tumblr: otpprompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 08:02:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3282950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LisaB1991/pseuds/LisaB1991
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harvey has some problems telling Mike how he feels about him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Night Of Poetry

Harvey was never the poetic type – never had been, never would be. He appreciated poetry at a certain level, had read some of them, maybe even owned some poetry books. But he read it, never recited it. Not that he was unromantic, or indifferent to it, he just wasn’t fascinated by it like others were – like Louis, for example.

He wasn’t fit for serenades underneath balconies, or dramatic confessions of love right before the inevitable climax of a fight. He wasn’t the kind of person that would stoop in front of his lover in the middle of a crowded street, ring in hand and emotions bare for the world to see.

Because Harvey Specter didn’t _do_ emotions.. He’s against having them, and has been for quite some time. Sure, he felt anger at times, but that was only used as motivation to get a hard case to succeed. It was his job to keep his emotions hidden under the surface, because others depended on him; if he’d slip, there was no one else to do the job for him, not even Mike. Mike, his beautiful, naive, stubborn, genius boyfriend. Oh how he detested the word. But it’s what Mike was to him. In a way.

Because even though Mike had told him time after time that he loved him, Harvey had never said it back. Not because he didn’t want to, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t. Donna used to reprimand him from time to time, telling him to make sure to show Mike even the tiniest bit of how he felt about him.

It’s not that Mike complained, or that Harvey dismissed her advice. But it’s hard for a man who was used to living alone for so long, to come home and find his condo filled with the smell of delicious aromas, to see Mike leaning against the stove, stirring in a pan. At times like these, Harvey likes to envelop Mike in a hug, gently pressing Mike against him, as his hands are absentmindedly fidgeting at the small pocket at the front of Mike’s apron, pressing a tender kiss just below Mike’s earlobe. Harvey believed he could _show_ Mike that he loved him, _instead_ of telling him.

But tonight, Harvey couldn’t help but be in a poetic mood. They had been in such a hurry to get each other naked before they would reach the bedroom, that they had neglected to close the curtains. It was a full foon tonight.

Mike had fallen asleep on his stomach, hands balled into loose fists, his head resting on the pillow, face turned away from Harvey. The blanket covered Mike to his waist, leaving his back and shoulders bare. The silver moonlight came in through the floor to ceiling windows, faintly illuminating the bed that stood right behind it. Harvey pushed himself up to look at sight beside him, supporting himself by his elbows. Mike’s back moved slightly with every breath he took, and each movement intensified the fluttering feeling Harvey felt in his abdomen.

He used to believe he had memorised each and every part of Mike’s body, but with the moonlight softly caressing Mike’s body, he felt his breath hitch in his throat, as he fought the overwhelming need to touch Mike.

Without fully knowing what he was doing, he reached out and placed a gentle finger near Mike’s spine, between the shoulder blades. It was as if he had lost the power over his own body, because his brain seemed to push his finger further and further down, and up again, tracing non-existant patterns on Mike’s back.

Harvey felt his cheeks redden, his heart hammering against his chest, in his ears, pumping his blood around in record time. He moved closer to Mike, careful not to disturb him. Mike sighed, and Harvey felt his dick twitch. _Damn Mike, what are you doing to me?_

Before he had the chance to think things through, Harvey traced another pattern down Mike’s back; from his neck, down his spine, to just underneath the blanket, touching the soft curve of his ass. The pattern had changed into words, the caresses had changed into handwriting.

_I love you_.

He hadn’t thought things through, but damn, this was hot. He had to stop things now if he wanted Mike to have the rest he deserved. And to be honest, he kind of needed the rest himself. He traced the words with his finger along Mike’s back one last time. For some reason, he found it easier to trace the words down Mike’s spine than to actually say them.

Just as he rolled unto his back and laid his head back on his pillow, Mike turned his head to face Harvey, eyes open and fully alert, a small smile on his lips. “I love you too,” he whispered as he moved closer to Harvey. Mike then rested his head in the curve between Harvey’s shoulder and neck. Harvey quickly pulled Mike’s body against his, his hand already playing with Mike’s hair, as he placed a tender kiss against Mike’s brow.

“I love you, rookie.”

Though it sounded breathless and agitated, it wasn’t less heart-felt. Mike knew and smiled.

“Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this prompt:
> 
> Imagine person A lightly tracing “I love you” over and over again on person B’s back, assuming that person B is asleep. When person A is lying on their back, getting ready to sleep, person B moves closer and wraps their arms around person A, whispering softly, “I love you too.” Bonus if that’s the first time person A has ever declared their love for person B.
> 
>  
> 
> All mistakes are mine; this onset is not beta'ed.  
> The boys don't belong to me- I ship them, therefore I believe they belong to each other (ha!).


End file.
